


Here comes a feeling you'd thought you'd forgotten.

by rodrigraphics



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rodrigraphics/pseuds/rodrigraphics
Summary: late night hormones and inconspicuous confessions.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i actually wrote a draft for this (which ive never done) and i followed like 75% of it. anyways, these are the only two fuckers ill ever write about. and im gay.
> 
> thanks.

It had become routine almost. To stay out late on school nights and do anything to forget about their lives at home, at school. Something that had become comforting almost. Just the two of them. 

It was midnight.

Only the hum of the car engine breaking the silence. White noise to accompany the chirps of crickets outside. Only louder with the windows rolled down.  
A cool October breeze hitting his skin, making the hairs on his neck stand up. Making him open his eyes to the darkness next to him, only broken by the moon and the flickering glow of a street light.

Abandoned places held onto the memories once made there. This rundown skatepark was no different. Abandoned from suburbia, forgotten and now an empty and decrepit lot of shaped concrete. Lonely. He could almost be poetic about it, and think of how it reminds him of himself.

But he's not alone, far from it actually. 

Butch was next to him, fingers tapping on the wheel, as if he was waiting for something. Something they were both aware of, but chose to ignore for the moment.

Butch turned the car off. Now only the crickets could be heard, and the glow of the dashboard had faded away. Darkness sinking in between them.  
Not that they didn't mind.

Routine.

Butch grabbing the cigarettes from his coat pocket. Handing one to him, and their touch lingering for a moment before separating. The flick of a lighter piercing the silence, and darkness. The both of them seeing the vaguest of outlines of each other, harsh shadows contrasting the hazy light of the flame. 

Now only the burning cinders of their cigarettes broke the darkness enveloping them.

There was no real need for conversations. Neither of them wanted to talk. It wasn't the right time, moment. It was more comforting to exist in silence.

Time slowly ticking by. And he could begin to feel the restlessness in his legs, the thoughts in his mind beginning to race again.  
He checked his phone. The brightness making his eyes sting. A missed call, one new text message.

_“Come home safe.”_

He rolled his eyes and turned his phone off.

He looks over at Butch, “wanna go stargaze.”

Not even a question, a weak willed command, a suggestion. Not that he'd be rejected anyway.

Butch shrugged, responding with a tired “sure.”

The slamming of the car doors in unison only brought in more silence. Scaring crickets away.  
He threw his cigarette on the ground, grinding it's ashes away till there was nothing.

The hood of the car was more comfortable than the concrete. 

Light pollution hid most of the stars away. But few still peeked out, twinkling as brightly as they could. As if not wanting to be forgotten.   
It made him bite his lip. He really hated light pollution.

He sighed, “you're not looking at the stars.”

He didn't have to look at Butch to know he was smiling, he could hear it so clearly in his voice.

“There are better things to stare at.”

And that response made his skin hot, and he bite on his lip harder. Till he tasted blood.

He wished he never came along.

He sighed deeper, frustrated. Pushing himself off the hood, skidding down the incline of the skatepark. Walking away.

He could hear Butch follow him, footsteps right behind his own.

“What'd I do wrong this time Nosebleed ?” He could still hear the smile in Butch's voice.

He turned around, “nothing.”

“Then why’re you being such a fuckface ?”

He almost laughed at that, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. “I'm not.”

Butch smiled at him, genuine and bright. “Don't fucking lie to me. You're a shit liar.”

He just shrugged.

Routine.

Butch pushed him, lightly. Trying to rile him up. Asking, what's wrong, what's wrong Nosebleed ?

And he'd push back, and tell Butch to fuck off. Back and forth, back and forth.

Till shit would hit the fan maybe, till both of them couldn't handle it anymore. Till they were both so restless and knew what they wanted. Till they both so desperately needed it.

How come he always ended up on the ground ?

Landing on the concrete knocked the air out of him, his back bruising immediately on impact. Body tense and adrenaline filled. But he wouldn't fight back. He didn't want to. Because this is what he wanted. This is what they both wanted.

But it was something different this time. Butch sitting on top of his hips, breathing slowly. His icy blue eyes looked soft. He looked angelic.

He bit his lip, as Butch rested a hand on his chest. A single touch making his whole body heat up.

“I'm not going to hurt you Andrés.”

Butch moved his hand up, each gliding touch making his heart face and his face flush. Till Butch's hand rested on his jawline.

“I'm not going to hurt you dumbass. I know you're scared. I know you're scared I'll do the same thing. That I'll fuck you over somehow.”

He could feel Butch's breathe on his skin when he sighed. And it made his chest tighten.

“—but I'm not going to. I don't want to. I like you too much. Do you hear me Nosebleed ? I like you, and your shitty attitude.”

He noticed the street light in the corner of his eye flickering, and the loudness of the crickets. The coolness of the concrete, and Butch's body heat to contrast. And Butch. 

It was so oddly peaceful.

Maybe he seemed desperate, the way his hands lunged at Butch's body to bring him down. And kept Butch close to him. The way their lips crashed together. Aggressive, but a gentle yearning behind it all. Lips dragging against one another, heavy breaths in between. Their teeth clashing together from eagerness.

He wanted Butch, he wanted Butch, he wanted Butch all to himself.

The car ride back, as the street lights grew more frequent, and as the radio hummed in the background. He confessed something, possibly true, he wasn't sure. But it felt best to put it out there.

Butch reached for his hand, and only said “me too, I think.”

He could hear the smile in Butch's voice as he looked out the window.

It was 2 in the morning.


End file.
